Flying cars, talking jackets and hover-boards for every household? Boy, would Marty McFly be upset to find we failed to match his portrayal of the 21st century. In fact, his 80s-inspired outfits in the film are most representative of America today.
We are going back.
Back to a time of mom-jeans and windbreakers, polaroids and record players. It is no longer cool to be new; we have transformed our idea of “fashion-forward” into “fashion-backward,” and there must be a reason why.
Perhaps the discovery and progression of the Internet is exactly that. We have access to everything. No one before us has ever had this much information at their fingertips, despite the number of encyclopedias collecting dust on their shelves. There was a burning desire for what is next, what could be, what we do not know and can not see. And I am not saying that feeling is dead — but with so much available to us, it’s hard to fathom what more we could need, and easier to be nostalgic of things we’ve never experienced.
The reason I’ve watched "That '70s Show" three times through is because it never ceases to be a world I would love to live in. That goes for "Saved by the Bell," "The Breakfast Club" and "Red Oaks," as well. Everything seems easier. I dress like those characters purposefully to evoke the same aura they give off: a sense of effortless happiness and shameless individuality. There were no platforms to post photos so the world could see how we chose to portray ourselves that day. Clothes were on our bodies for the raw, natural purpose of feeling comfortable in our own skin and personalities. We liked how we looked, we felt like ourselves and, more importantly, we dressed for ourselves — not a digital fanbase. We are trying to bring back styles of the past to instill the same carefree confidence in ourselves. We want ease. We are going back.
Grainy photographs of my mother and her high-school friends seem like a freeze-frame of a movie: everyone is smiling, carefree and doesn’t care who knows it. There was no assumption that this photo would be seen by thousands of online followers; it was meant to represent that exact moment just the way it was, to no one but themselves. I think we want that. We have access to a profile that directly represents the state of everyone’s individual lives. Pictures aren’t carefree anymore, they’re assurances that we are happy and experiencing the good in life. I associate grainy filters with a sense of admirable ease; the feeling I get from my mother’s old photos. We try to add tasteful imperfections to our pictures to send those who see them a message of simple, organic joy. We want happiness that isn’t staged. We are going back.
Music is available to produce, advertise and consume for all who seek it. Every song is a download away. And while I could not live without Spotify, I’d choose vinyls over digital music platforms any day. Every scratch in the background represents a time and place that vinyl was played, a memory which can literally never be unheard. I remember exactly where I was, what was happening and what I felt upon purchasing each one of my records, upon hearing them for the first time. That feeling is irreplaceable; it connects you to music in the rawest form. With the accessibility to so many styles and versions of music, the reemergence of vinyls play into the idea of a desirable simplicity of the past. It’s extremely difficult to appreciate music the way you can with its tangible representation. We want the organic connection. We are going back.
Here’s what I think: the future is the past. The future is remembering the beauty in simplicity, for a generation that grew up with nothing but complexity. Everything may be at our fingertips, but that shouldn’t dominate our life decisions. Wear things because they represent you. Take photos in moments you never want to forget. Listen to music because you appreciate its art. We’ve had a taste of the robotic, hover-board utopia that cinema has predicted the future to look like. We don’t want that. We want the natural, real joy that comes with organic human experience. Let’s morph the information we have within our reach into a perfect combination of old and new, simple and complex. For the future is the past, only our version of it.
